


Stained

by winterlace



Category: thirteen (2003)
Genre: Drug Use, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 22:52:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterlace/pseuds/winterlace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's with her every step of the way, even though she can't see her sometimes, Tracy can feel her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stained

**Author's Note:**

> The lyrics are from "Anthems for a Seventeen Year Old Girl" by Broken Social Scene

_Used to be one of the rotten ones and I liked you for that._   
_Now you’re all gone, got your make up one and you’re not coming back._

Tracy Freeland still smokes.

She pretends she doesn’t remember how Evie taught her to breathe it deep down into herself and enjoy it every time she took a drag.

***

Each summer that rolls by teaches her something new. That first summer. The summer after Evie teaches her true and complete utter loneliness.

Her brother never looks her in the eye and those people she knew, old and new, avoid her.

She watches the summer drift by, never truly a part of it. Outside looking in, the way it always seemed to be.

***

She notices the girls staring at her. New girls, just like she had been. They stare at her with eyes too bright and it briefly crosses her mind that maybe her eyes had looked like that too. They were dull now, no innocent fire burning.

So they stare and at first Tracy thinks they are laughing at her, already a year behind. But it does take her long to figure out that’s not why they stare at her. Like she had once been, these girls with the too bright eyes were looking for someone to lead them.

But Tracy doesn’t want to lead them. She had a leader. Evie was her leader and now she was gone, taking most of Tracy with her.

***

Their leader eventuates in the form of a leggy girl with rippling black hair and ice cold blue eyes. She stops in front of Tracy in the hall, blocking her way, an audience of four girls behind her.

Those ice cold eyes flick over her, and Tracy has an almost cataclysmic flashback.

_"Nice socks... who let her out of the cabbage patch?"_

She has to blink to free herself from the vision, but it’s blue eyes that challenge her now, not brown and they don’t have the same hold over her.

"Tracy Freeland?"

"Yes?"

They manage a self assured smirk and walk away in unison. A pack of wolves just chewing on what was left of her corpse.

***

She’s in the bathroom alone one day, late for class, washing her hands under tepid water. The door of the girls toilets creak and Astrid steps in, Tracy freezes like a rabbit caught in headlights, staring wide-eyed into the mirror. Blue eyes connect through the reflective surface but Astrid hardly falters.

Astrid had assumed Evie’s role as Queen almost effortlessly, all the other girls falling to line behind her. She pulls out candy cotton lip gloss from her tiny purse, smearing it over her lips, she smacks them together and winks provocatively in the mirror with a confident smile.

As she turns to leave, she finally acknowledges Tracy’s presence who stood still, frozen in place, hands under the running tap.

"Tracy."

"Astrid."

Tracy’s mouth is so dry she’s surprised she can form words but what comes next takes words not only from her mouth but completely from her brain.

"Heard from Evie at all?"

"Uh... no... you?" Tracy gropes blindly to regain some semblance of composure, despite her suddenly lack of popularity she doesn’t want to look like a complete idiot.

"She said she might skip out on Brooke this summer. Come visit and shit." Astrid remarks casually.

"Oh."

"Well. See you around Tracy."

Later Tracy can’t help back assume that it was just a veiled warning to stay the hell away.

***

Ironically enough the lesson Tracy learns that summer is how to hide without really hiding. And when she’s feeling brave she takes a walk down Melrose, she never goes into Red Balls, just watches the entrance from across the street.

Occasionally her heart will start pounding at the sight of a luscious brunette with olive skin. But it’s never her. It’s never Evie. And Tracy just can’t stop the disappointment flooding her instead of relief.

She learns as the summer draws to a close that Astrid had moved away. And that the anxiety of Evie being here had never eventuated at all.

***

The following year seems quieter. More at peace than the last. Most of the girls that she had known during that year had moved on or ignored her completely.

She is assigned to a mousy looking girl for a joint Biology project. The girl, Sarah, at first shies away from her and flinches at any sudden movements. Tracy wonders if she’s just crippled by shyness until she notices, sitting alone with her lunch one day. That Sarah seems completely animated three tables over with a varied bunch of girls. Tracy thinks that next time in Biology she might ask her about it. Was she scared of her? Of Tracy Freeland? Who had absolutely no social standing at all?

Maybe she wouldn’t ask.

It's better if she doesn't know.

***

"Do you know what people say about you?" Sarah asks one day out of the blue. Tracy blinks at her for a minute before replying.

"What is it that they say about me?"

"Lots of things really. None of it’s nice. Like... uh... apparently you fucked some guy called Grady? Out near the Boardwalk... yeah something like you cut at his wrists or something afterward. Mostly it’s all about how you’re drug crazed psycho bitch but I’ve been sitting here next to you in Biology for nearly a month now and you haven’t once done anything crazy... like, at all."

This comes out in a jumbled mess and Tracy just blinks slowly again. She’s not surprised at what people say about her. Evie’s malice seemed to have longer lasting effects than she could have ever imagined.

"Yeah," Tracy finally says because Sarah is staring her, waiting for her reaction. "people around here just like to talk."

Sarah looks dubious at this so Tracy hastily adds, "None of it’s true though... none of it’s ever true."

Sarah beams at her and Tracy feels a tiny spark that just maybe, she might have made a friend.

"I love your clothes." Sarah says about five minutes later. Tracy smiles and they talk about shopping. For a swift second Tracy sees Evie in front of her rolling her eyes. "What would she know about clothes? It obvious her mummy buys hers." But Tracy blinks and she’s gone again.

***

Tracy’s pleasantly surprised when after they hand in their project Sarah still stops to talk to her in the hall and continues sitting next to her in Biology. And one day, finally, Tracy invites her over.

Tracy can tell her mom is surprised when she walks in with Sarah. But she knows Mel will approve, Sarah’s just like Noel but with better fashion sense (if only slightly). Sarah is no Evie.

Mel makes them sandwiches and stays to talk until Tracy is half way through hers. Tracy knows that Mel is just making sure she doesn’t fall into old habits but Tracy doesn’t like the way her eyes linger on her.

When Mel finally leaves Mason comes through the kitchen while Tracy puts her plate in the sink, Sarah looking at the photos on the corkboard.

"Well she sure ain’t Evie." He says under his breath and Tracy just glares.

***

A few months later she finally takes out her tongue piercing. For a long time afterward she feels... uncomfortable without the familiar metal to roll with her tongue. Both Mason and Mel smile brightly at her when they realise it’s gone.

She makes sure she always wears long shirts so they don’t see that her belly button ring is still there.

But then again, they never knew that Evie had pierced that one herself.

***

When Tracy starts to think too much about Evie, she stops blinking and waits until her vision starts pulsing around the sides in time with her heartbeat.

And if she gets desperate enough there’s a small pair of nail scissors taped to the bottom of her second draw. It’s a hiding spot she never told Evie about and therefore one Mel doesn’t check. Plus she’s smart enough now to leave the marks in other places than her arms.

***

She’s not sure exactly when that particular summer she notices her Sketchers missing. The ones she had gotten on that day. She knows at some point Mel had gone through her room (it was a regular occurrence, Mel pretended like she didn’t and Tracy never brought it up), found them and thrown them out. Tracy can’t stop the disturbingly tight clenching of her stomach.

Without thinking too much about it, she starts cataloguing the things she had left of Evie’s. Mostly clothes (Mel could never figure out which were Tracy’s and which were Evie’s, they had traded so much, and she would never go to the lengths of through out all her clothes and buying new ones), some jewellery and some old lip gloss, even a sample of perfume (which on the nights Tracy can’t sleep she sprays the tiniest amount on her pillow) but even if she has these things Tracy knows that the essence of Evie is slipping away.

This is the summer she learns how memories fade no matter what you do to hold on to them. No matter what you have left around to remind you.

It’s also the summer that Mason brings home his first serious girlfriend. She’s very blonde, very tanned and likes jeans and vintage t-shirts. She helps Mel cook in the kitchen and is far too bubbly to be natural.

Tracy and Mason sit together at the table watching Mel and Missy (yeah, that was her real name) giggle with their heads together over pasta sauce.

"I think mom likes her." Mason whispers to her.

"Yeah well," Tracy replies acidly. "She sure ain’t Evie."

Mason just glares.

***

She spends the summer sunbaking on her front lawn. Watching as the neighbourhood just passes her by. A family moves into Luke’s house next door. Mom, Dad, a blonde daughter and a blonde son. Then out of the car emerges much older son. Dark hair, dark eyes and skin the colour of a latte. He stares at her for nearly a minute before disappearing into the house.

Tracy doesn’t see him for the rest of the summer.

***

It’s the first day of school and Tracy lights a cig for the walk. She rolls her neck, her shoulders, her back, her whole body trying to erase that familiar tension that always came with school. With idle thoughts of girls she used to know.

"Can I bum a smoke?"

He’s right there in front of her and she realises that his eyes aren’t brown like she thought but a creepy dark green. She offers the deck and lighter with enough nonchalance that she even convinces herself that her heart really isn’t beating that fast.

"So you live next door." He says.

"Tracy." She replies, not meeting his eyes.

"Frankie."

They don’t shake hands.

***

It becomes a morning ritual. They meet out the front of Tracy’s house, light their cigarettes and walk to school together. Minimal talking required. It lasts for months before something changes.

During the afternoon Tracy normally walked home alone. She never went looking for Frankie and as far as she could tell he never went looking for her. They never crossed paths on the way home. Mornings were their thing.

"Hey... you wanna come by my place and smoke some pot?"

He catches up with her just a block from their houses. Tracy remembers the last time she smoked pot. It was in the dim yellow light of Evie’s room with Rubén and Javi.

"Sure."

***

He doesn’t really want to smoke pot. She knows that. Or knew that. Truthfully it was awkward fumbling on his bed. Those long thin fingers curling up inside her as she gasps into his neck. His thumb stroking over that spot that makes her fingers dig into his back and her whole lower body pulse with pleasure.

"Please..." She whispers, not really sure what she’s asking for.

It’s messy and a little bit painful, she can’t get the rhythm at first, she can’t get used to the feeling of him inside her.

And just before he cums she swears she sees Evie grinning at her over his shoulder.

***

Afterwards he traces the thin white scars along her arm. He doesn’t ask where they came from or what she used. She likes this; she gets so sick of hiding them all the time. 

They share a joint before Tracy tells him she has to go home. He nods and smiles but doesn’t add anything.

She tries not to think to hard on her walk home. But somehow it was like she didn’t lose her virginity to him but instead to Evie. And if she’s honest, Evie took whatever ‘innocence’ virginity pertained to anyway.

***

She’s searching through her old school books. Searching for an assignment she’s done last year to give to Sarah who was doing something very similar this year and she freezes when she pulls out a book from that year.

In a heart drawn with brightly coloured gel pens was "Evie & Tracy. 2 kewl 2 b 4gotten"

Tracy hides the book between the mattress and her bed frame.

***

That summer Frankie starts dealing. Mainly little bits of pot, E and whiz. They’re kind of together but not really. Tracy would never go so far as to call him her boyfriend, but she spends more time in the dim quiet of his bedroom than that of her own. And when they’re bored and not to lazy, they fool around. Tracy likes this arrangement more than she can admit. Without a label she doesn’t feel like she’s giving him a bit of her. She needs all the bits of her that all left for herself. Too many of them still belong to Evie.

The first time she drops a pill she feels like she’s flying. She feels like she can feel the rush of wind all around her yet she is still in Frankie’s dim room. The texture of the carpet fascinates her, the brightness of the world outside.

"I’m fucking flying!" she screams into Frankie’s face, gripping his arms to keep her... grounded? Steady? She doesn’t know. She starts dancing and doesn’t stop. Spinning. Spinning. Spinning. Evie’s right there with her. Laughing all the way.

Her come down is fucken horrendous.

***

In the Red Balls mirrors a tall, pale, blonde girl stares out at her. Her eyes aren’t hopeful anymore, there’s no sign of a desperate to impress thirteen-year-old in them. She’s seventeen and feeling old. So old, these days. Tight black jeans. Red tank top. And she blinks uninterested, turning this way and that. For a moment, there’s Evie in the mirror, smirking in the background. But Tracy is so used to seeing Evie in the background she quiets that racketing beating of her heart without so much as a thought.

When she blinks, Evie is still there. Still smirking at her in the mirror. Tracy blinks slowly but no, she’s still there. Still smirking! Does she spin around or slowly turn? She’s doesn’t remember all she knows is that Evie is there now, in front of her... no longer just in the background.

"Evie?"

"Tracy."

"What are you doing here Evie?"

Evie laughs as if the answer was obvious and Tracy was being deliberately stupid. "I came back for you Tracy. I told you I would. You’re my girl. I love you."


End file.
